


Rewind

by valiantprincex



Category: Orphan Black (TV)
Genre: Gen, project castor fun times featuring sibling death and desperation B), this is kind of trash but it's my trash okay feat. my trashy sons in some of their messed up glory
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-26
Updated: 2015-04-26
Packaged: 2018-03-25 20:25:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,060
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3823687
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/valiantprincex/pseuds/valiantprincex
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Spoilers for 3x02.</p><p> </p><p>  <em>Two shots. Two bullets. Two spots of blood blooming bright on his brother's chest. </em></p>
            </blockquote>





	Rewind

**Author's Note:**

> just to be 100% clear i think both seth and rudy are deplorable, but they(and their dynamic) is fascinating.
> 
> Warnings for death and dying, and blood.

Two shots. Two bullets. Two spots of blood blooming bright on his brother's chest.

_Shit_.

Seth stares up at Rudy, eyes wide and staring, lips contorting around words that won’t come.  When Rudy knees next to him he strokes along Seth’s forehead, whispers words of condolence he’s not even sure his brother can understand.

“Go easy,” he murmurs,  _look at his eyes look at his eyes Rudy, don’t look at the blood don’t feel it don't–_ “I love you,” Rudy whispers, tearing his eyes away from Seth’s, the way they scream betrayal, confusion,  _why brother why brother whywhywhy._ The words taste bitter, used,  _over_ used.  _Shit_. It wasn’t ever supposed to happen to Seth, not ever, not  _ever;_ they were going to find the sequence, find the cure, stop the dying.  _Shit_.

He stays there a moment, touches his brow to Seth’s and feels his brother’s last breath leave him, counts the seconds.  _Faster this way. Faster and easier and cleaner, two bullets and he’s gone; better that than…_  Rudy hisses, Seth’s screams still reverberating in his ears.

 _Not fair_. He lets the thought settle as he begins to rise, still crouched over his brother’s  _body_. Body. Nothing else, nothing else nothing  _else,_ just a sack of blood and bone and skin, ashes. Would be ashes, if Rudy took him back.  _No use. No reason for it._ He forces himself away from Seth’s face, hands searching for – there.

He takes it, stands, trains his gun on the  _boyfriend_. But that’s too easy, too easy of a shot and Rudy’s heart is racing;  _stop that,_  he thinks,  _get yourself together or you’ll die, you can’t do that can you they need you they need you they–_

Rudy feels blood under his boots as he backs away, slipping into the shadows and running, running. As soon as he;s out of the building he turns to run, pauses only slightly, thinks of Seth. The way Seth looked at him when he pulled the trigger, the way Rudy’s bones shake, call him  _traitor_. But there’s no use mourning, no use no  _use,_ and so he runs: keep moving soldier, keep running, they need you don’t be a  _coward_.   

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 –– _He needs the genome needs it needs it needs it, it will fix them cure them make them well a-again and Seth is dead, Seth is dying, Seth is screaming and Rudy is helpless and––_

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

 

“How long has it been happening?” Rudy’s voice is steady, like’s he’s been trained –  _keep it up soldier –_ but his mind is racing. He holds the phone to his ear like a lifeline,  _their_ lifeline.

“A week. Hesitation. “Maybe two.”

 _Shit_. Rudy ballparks three weeks, then, three weeks of glitching, shit shit  _shit_. Why didn’t Seth tell him, stupid Seth, stupid fucking Seth. He didn't want to be a bother, Rudy knows, knows that Seth thought the knowledge would be an  _inconvenience_ to him, thought Rudy was better off not knowing.

He fights the urge to punch a hole in the wall, gripping the phone tighter. “I’m not going to stand by and watch it happen, you hear?”

Seth’s labored breathing tells Rudy everything he needs to know. “It’s getting worse,” he says quietly, and Rudy can hear his voice quaver. “I don’t know what to do”

“We’re gonna finish the job,” Rudy replies, biting back the growl in his tone. If he was weak, if he was a child he would have said  _I love you_ , would have said  _don’t worry_ , would have said  _you’ll be fine_. But Rudy’s no coward, and he’s no liar. They don’t lie to each other. Ever.

If they can’t trust their own, well. They might as well as be dead.

 

 

 

* * *

 

–– _It’s not fair, he used to say, like a child be used to say it’s not fair it’s not, but that didn't do anything doesn't do anything they are dying they are dead already, if not now then-later they will––_

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

 

“Some bags are pockets. no pockets are pouches. Conclusion: all bags are not pouches.”

“False,” Rudy drawls, itching to roll his eyes.  _Major Dierden._ Synonym with fool, probably. The questions come easily to him:  _true-false-true-true-true-false-true-false-false,_ the game he’s been playing for longer than he can remember. Long enough that he remembers a time when he thought it was just that, a game, didn’t know their lives hinged on it.

 

 

 

> The first time his brother died it took hours, days,  _weeks_ really; in the end, all agony. They watched it happen too;  _Mother_ made them stand and watch and whispered reason and logic and  _that’s how life works,_ and Rudy realized this: they were expendable. He watched his brother choke and writhe and hatred it, hated every second of it, felt vomit rise in his throat as  _Mother_ told him their death was understandable. Reasonable. Just a flaw in the machine after all, just a hitch.
> 
> Seth had gripped Rudy’s hand and he realized: Mother didn't care. Mother  _didn’t care,_  wouldn’t care, and so he had to. For their sake. For his brothers.
> 
> The next time it happened he was fourteen, and he used a knife. Stupid of him, the blood got  _everywhere,_ stupid stupid st–

When it’s Seth’s turn Rudy can’t help but be anxious, which is  _cowardly_ , and he’s no coward. Not anymore. Not  _ever_ , and when Dierden looks at Seth like he's broken, and  Rudy imagines sending a bullet through his brain. Or heart. Or stomach, liver, throat. Now  _that_ would make for a painful death,  _heh_.

He barely listens as he’s given orders, he let’s the edge of his lip quirk up in a grin and glances at Seth, who’s still shaken. Rudy crushes the childish urge to grab his brother’s hand and instead folds his hands behind his back, the perfect mockery of obedience.  

“You’re going back to base,” Dierden says, and Rudy wants to slug him. They need the original.  _Seth_ needs the original. And this… won’t do.

When  _Major Dierden_  finally leaves Rudy points a finger to the back of his head and mines the kickback of a gun, mouths  _pow_  to his brother.

Seth laughs. He always laughs at stupid shit like this. In the moment Rudy can almost forget the seizures, the screams of his brethren.  _Dead_. Rudy shakes his head, hisses, pushes Seth’s shoulder teasingly.

“Ready, soldier?”

At Seth’s eager nod, Rudy feels sick.


End file.
